


The Way You Look Tonight

by sunflower1343



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower1343/pseuds/sunflower1343
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akihito is so used to seeing what he expects that he misses everything that's there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way You Look Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> A little romance between the not-so-romantic fics I'm posting. Written Feb 2006, when the series was still in Biblos bankruptcy limbo. This takes place in a future where NT didn't happen and gives them a little resolution of sorts, since back then we didn't think we'd ever get to see the end of the story. It was originally written in two parts, but I stuck them together since they read like a oneshot.
> 
> ~~~~~~~

Akihito rubbed the back of his neck with a tired hand and flexed his muscles, trying to remove the ache. Lately he'd come to hate shooting weddings. There was no challenge, never anything new to look at. 

How much longer was this thing going to go on anyway? The contract stipulated that he couldn't leave until the party was declared closed by the groom's father, and the groom's father looked like he'd dug in for the night. 

If he hadn't badly needed money he never would have taken the job but the amount offered had been too good to be true and he couldn't risk screwing it up. Lately he'd a habit of finding well-paying jobs in the nick of time, and his luck had recently come through again and brought him this one. He wasn't going to lose it.

But enough of that. He should get back to taking pictures. In a few more minutes. He'd just stand there and close his eyes for a moment and will the ache out of his back. He started rubbing his shoulder again.

He froze as his hand was pushed aside by a larger, warmer one. Another came to rest on the other side of his neck. They slowly began squeezing and kneading the muscles there. He'd pull away, only it felt too damned good. 

He knew the hands like they were his own. He knew the touch, strong and possessive. He knew the scent, light sandalwood with a hint of citrus. He knew the sight of them, long fingers, strength in each, manicured, wicked digits, capable of arousing so much with so little effort. His heart began to beat more swiftly at the sight of them flexing across his shoulders, so near to his face, so close to his mouth. He clenched his jaw to keep his tongue trapped behind teeth, when it so badly wanted to flick out and taste.

The knuckles of one hand brushed his jaw line. A low voice spoke by his ear. "What's wrong, Akihito? You look hungry. I'd be happy to feed you."

Akihito bit back a sharp response. He was working and really didn't want to cause a scene. But something about Asami always brought out the worst in him. It was almost a habit now, the fight between them. So the sarcasm slipped out. "Just keeping doing what you're doing. I like it when you're a good boy, Asami."

He heard what sounded like a low growl at his response. Then something unexpected. Something that didn't belong in the ritual. Something mild. "Dance with me."

It threw him for a second, but he fell back on old habit. "Fuck you. I'm working. Leave me alone."

He heard a sigh behind him. "Dance with me or I'll take you right here, behind this bridal bower of flowers. Or could it be that's what you want?"

"Damn you, you would, too."

"Don't damn _me_ for what you're feeling. Take some responsibility for once. Admit what you want."

"I want you to leave me alone."

"Stop lying. A fuck or a dance? Which will it be?"

The words sounded tired. But he knew the choice was real and that he'd best make it, or it would be made for him. 

The hands on his shoulders had never stopped working. He grabbed one of them and began to tug Asami toward the dance floor. Asami stopped him and made him remove his camera and equipment. "We wouldn't want to let some film come between us, would we?"

That was a cue he recognized. Akihito got pissed. His fists clenched and he swung around to stare into eyes that always burned brighter the angrier he got. He knew he was being egged on. He knew he shouldn't give into his temper. But he always did, time after time, lines ready to come out of his mouth like they were a memorized script. He didn't get a chance to deliver them.

"Ah, Asami-sama, you made it. Welcome to our little party. This boy you recommended has been doing a fine job. I look forward to seeing his photographs of the reception."

The groom's father. Idiot. Well, it was a welcome interruption.

Wait a minute. That was new. Asami had gotten him the job? Asami? Not his own merit? His cheeks burned. He'd been paid so Asami could have a sexual rendezvous? That was just what he would expect from him. He was being used like a whore. Anger choked him into silence and he glared up into gold-flecked eyes that filled with a frustration.

Asami's voice was cold and commanding. "Leave. Now." That was obviously meant for the groom's father, who flushed and backed away. Asami's eyes hadn't wavered from his. "It isn't what you think."

"Isn't it? I'm not for sale."

"You've made that clear any number of times. When's the last time I tried to buy you? Besides, why should I buy what's already mine?"

Akihito wanted to swing at him. His breath hissed unsteadily between his teeth. "You don't own me. Sure, sometimes you manage to trap me, but I always get free. I'll always be my own person. Nothing you can do will change that."

Asami's body stiffened and his eyes burned hot. "How long will you let your stubbornness blind you?" He twisted around to glare at the ever-present blond bodyguard stationed near him. "Clear the room."

Suoh didn't even flinch at the extraordinary order. He simply obeyed, quickly starting to usher out the few remaining guests politely, insistently, even picking up the last reluctant drunk and carrying him toward the exit. 

Akihito wasn't about to stick around either. He stepped to the side, toward his equipment. A firm hand on his arm stopped him. Another snaked around his waist. He couldn't move, except for a slight wiggle. "Let me go or I'll make a scene the like of which you've never seen."

"Really? Please do. That would be something new. Unfortunately I think I've seen every scene you have within you."

"What the hell does that mean? You're not making any sense tonight!" This wasn't playing out the way it was supposed to, and he hated the feeling of helplessness that was growing in him.

His body was pulled back against Asami's chest. He could feel every button on Asami's jacket through back of the cheap suit he wore. 

"Why are you trembling Akihito? Could it be that you've finally realized the truth?" 

What truth? Their truth was sex. It had always been that way, it always would be. What else was there for them? His body was turned around to face his tormenter. 

Asami stared down at him. Akihito wasn't sure what he was seeing in his face, but it wasn't the angry possessive stare he'd come to expect. Possessive, yes, but it was almost as if Asami were as frustrated with the game as he was. 

There was a click of a door closing, and he noticed the wedding guests were all gone. Asami waved a hand toward his other bodyguard, who'd evidently paid off the musicians because in a moment the squeaky strains of an instrument or two started up. Playing The Girl from Ipanema. 

Akihito couldn't help it. He snorted with laughter. The whole bizarre situation had just gone off the deep end. His anger fled, leaving him feeling rather empty.

Asami closed his eyes with a sigh. He opened them and shot a withering look at the band. The music paused and there was a slight shuffling of pages on the podium. Then the strains of an old Sinatra song began. Akihito didn't know it well, he just remembered his father singing some of the words to his mother.

_Yes you’re lovely, with your smile so warm_  
_And your cheeks so soft,_  
_There is nothing for me but to love you,_  
_And the way you look tonight._

His heart ached, thinking of the lyrics. What would it be like, to have someone who thought that of him? 

As if in response to his thoughts, Asami's fingers brushed over his cheek lightly and he started and blushed. Confused, he ducked his head, his forehead coming to rest on the chest in front of him. Asami's right hand had slipped to the back of his waist, pressing their bodies together. It felt good, just to be close like that. Asami's left hand held Akihito's right in its grasp, between their chests. 

"Dance with me Akihito." Not a request. But not quite a command. 

Akihito looked up at the one holding him, the man who seemed a stranger tonight. Something within him warred against his need to stubbornly refuse this man everything. He'd never felt truly comfortable in Asami's grasp, yet now, here, he felt drawn to it. Warm. Safe. Wanted. Just for tonight. Just for this moment. 

He shook his hand free of Asami's grasp. The eyes before him emptied of all expression. Then he stepped in close and slid his arms up around Asami's neck. He quickly tucked his head under Asami's chin so he didn't have to see those self-satisfied eyes that he knew were now above him. But he felt a soft sigh come from the chest he leaned on. Asami's arms moved to his waist, his cheek rested on Akihito's hair. They slowly began to move, a simple step, swaying back and forth, a slow dance, one that barely moved them around the floor.

Their hips brushed softly against each other, the slight friction teasing him, making him all too aware of Asami's touch. He felt the heat of Asami's body through the cloth of his suit, making him want to remove it. It was disturbing his skin, which suddenly felt sensitive enough to feel the slight breeze of their slow movements. He was intensely aware of his partner, in a way he'd never experienced.

Their feet shuffled slightly as they moved in a lazy circle, but Akihito no longer paid attention. He closed his eyes and let himself be led by the one he clung to, for once giving in to the pleasure of being tended to. He was enjoying it and he didn't want to think about anything. 

But the dance that barely moved him across the floor was shaking him emotionally. Who was this, this Asami holding him? He knew he was a beast. He'd seen it not ten minutes ago. But the one that was holding him, he wanted him so much it scared him. Especially since he knew the slightest thing could change him back into the Asami he'd come to know. That's the way it always was. He knew that, yet he couldn't help yearning for more.

He looked up, confused, into eyes that were so close to his. Eyes that hadn't been focused on him, that flickered to his as if caught unaware. They were unguarded, and for a moment he thought they were each falling off some high cliff into the other's soul.

It frightened him and he tilted his chin up, wanting to ground this in the physical, shifting his hips, bringing his lips closer to those that hovered over his. 

To his disappointment, Asami pulled back slightly and pressed Akihito's head back against his chest. "This isn't about sex. We're just dancing, Akihito," he murmured.

What game was this? It was always about sex. Since when did Asami turn down sex? Was he tired of him? Was this some kind of goodbye? His heart began to beat rapidly, too rapidly. Where was the panic coming from? Words he would never, ever say came tumbling out of his mouth. "Asami? Don't you want me?" 

The powerful hands at his waist slid down to his ass, cupping it and lifting him slightly, pressing their erections together. He groaned, relieved that they were on more familiar ground. Then the grip loosened, letting him slide back down to stand on his own two feet. He was trembling with the need for more. Why was Asami letting him slip free?

Asami too had stopped moving, and Akihito realized the room was silent. He cautiously raised his head again to see Asami staring down at him with a strange look on his face. His hands rose to his neck and loosened Akihito's grip, then he stepped back.

Akihito moved forward, but Asami turned away and Akihito was left staring helplessly at his back. There was a rustle of clothing, a click of a lighter, then the familiar smoke from Asami's favorite brand of cigarettes. When he turned back around, the familiar mask was in place.

Asami shrugged slightly. "I agreed. A dance or a fuck. I keep my word."

Akihito didn't get it. This was it? He should be relieved, right? Then why was he hurting so?

Asami stepped forward and placed a light kiss on his lips. "Don't be so sad, princess. There will be other balls." Asami signaled his men, then turned and headed for the exit.

Akihito couldn't believe this. Here he was, shaken to the core, and Asami could just walk away like it was nothing?

He realized he'd said that aloud when Asami paused, still facing away from him. "Sometimes, Akihito, you're a fool." Then he stepped through the door and was gone.

Akihito stood staring at the empty space, willing it to fill with that form again so all the emotions rushing through his head and heart would have a target. What the hell did that mean? What did any of this mean? Before tonight what was between them had been so easy to define. Chase, catch, fuck, yell, escape, rinse, repeat. No emotions, no tenderness, no love. Just raw, hot sex. When had Asami ever wanted anything else? It had been the same from day one.

Or had it? Now he wasn't so sure.

Muttering musicians and scraping chairs made him remember where he was. Taking a deep breath he shook himself into motion, going to the table to grab his equipment before the caterers came in to clean up. But as he fussed with it the last half hour played over and over in his mind. 

The initial request. The frustration. The demand. The dance. The look they shared. The withdrawal. The disappointment. The exit. 

He was breathing quickly by the time he finished. Sometimes he just needed to adjust his focus to see clearly.

Sometimes, he truly was a fool.

He shoved his remaining equipment into his case and slung it over his shoulder. Then he ran from the room.

Asami hadn't said where he was going but Akihito knew where to find him. And this time, this time, things would be different. 

He finally recognized what he saw in his viewfinder.

 

 

\---

 

He couldn't wait for the elevator. He ran up the stairs, all 24 flights, and fell against the lone doorway on the last floor.

There was a quiet shuffle inside the apartment, then the door opened, making him fall inward at Asami's slippered feet.

He stared up, breathing hard, into the impassive face that looked down, considering him.

Asami's cigarette dangled from his lips as usual. A pistol dangled from one hand. Akihito could smell the scotch on his breath. Asami pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew a stream of smoke out, watching him. He set the pistol on the hall table.

"You didn't have time to get drunk. So to what do I owe the pleasure?" 

Akihito rolled over and pushed himself into sitting position, letting the door close behind him. Now that he was here, he wasn't certain what he wanted to say. Only that he didn't want to fight. He wanted to feel what he had earlier, with Asami.

Asami crouched down in front of him, studying him. "Well, well. Speechless. Will wonders never cease?"

The angry words started out of habit. "You don't have to act like—" He cut them off. Dammit this wasn't how he'd wanted this to happen. He took a deep breath and started over.

"What you said, at the reception. You were right."

Asami didn't move, didn't blink. He reminded Akihito of a predator watching for a deadly opening. 

"Right about what, Akihito?" His voice when it came out was mild and unconcerned, but that no longer fooled Akihito. He now knew that to be a sure sign of tension. 

So he spoke the truth. "About me being a fool." 

Akihito stood up and walked deeper into the apartment, too nervous to sit still. "I thought about it, after you left that way. I could tell I was missing something." 

He spun about. "Did you ever take pictures, Asami?"

Asami's eyebrow went up. "Not much. A few, when I was younger."

Akihito scowled. He'd try to explain it anyway. "It's like this. Sometimes you go out, and you're looking through the finder, and you think you see a great shot and snap it. Only when you look at the picture, it's not quite what you had in mind. And you're determined to get that shot. So you set up and try again, and again, changing lighting, changing lenses, only nothing seems to work. So you throw all the photos on the table, or the computer screen, and look at them, sorting through, trying to find the pattern that will make it right. And then sometimes it jumps out at you. It wasn't the equipment, it was you."

He walked over to Asami, who was listening with an intensity that belied his casual stance. "Don't you get it? You can't take the picture because _your_ focus was always wrong. You were trying to photograph what you thought you saw, instead of what was really in front of you. After you realize that, the picture becomes easy. It just may not be what you expected."

He stepped even closer, his hands coming up to frame Asami's face. "I was seeing what I wanted to, out of habit, instead of seeing what was in front of me. But tonight, you made me look again. I was wrong, wasn't I? Not just about me, but about you as well. Gods, it's always been that simple, hasn't it? Reframing the shot."

His breath caught as a small smile appeared on Asami's face. Asami was a beautiful man, but Akihito had never seen him like this. Maybe it was because he never let his emotions be seen, but just the hint of them, like this little smile, transformed him. 

Akihito found himself reminded of the song from earlier that evening, and responded with a smile of his own. Asami's lips quirked up even more, but there was no hint of sarcasm for once. A little smugness, perhaps, but that was allowed. 

Asami stepped into the middle of the entrance hall, then turned back to Akihito. He held his hand out. "May I have this dance?"

Akihito looked at him for the first time with unclouded vision, and this time his emotions rose up in answer to what he saw in Asami's eyes. He stepped forward, smiling, to join his partner.

 

~end~


End file.
